tore me apart like a hurricane
by but it comes around
Summary: "It should help cheer her up, but Squirrelflight still feels just…numb." A response to learning in "Leafpool's Wish" that Squirrelflight is infertile, because I wasn't pleased with how they handled it.


**Title: **tore me apart like a hurricane

**Rating: **K

**Characters/Pairings: **Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Brambeclaw; SquirrelBramble

**Disclaimer: **Title comes from "Therapy" by All Time Low, I do not own Warriors.

**Authors Note: **Two fics in a day? Oh my! I just remembered the bullshit that was Leafpool's Wish, so. Because Squirrelflight is my child and I just, well, I love her, I wanted to write her reaction to being told she was infertile. I wanted her to be more _real_.

**Summary: **"It should help cheer her up, but Squirrelflight still feels just…numb."

**Words: **~1,395

* * *

"_I wish that the stars had not sent this message for me to pass on. But it is my duty. Squirrelflight, you will never have kits of your own."_

Yellowfang's words ring and echo in Squirrelflight's head as she pads through the territory, Leafpool calmly padding at her side. Her tabby sister, normally so lithe and quick on her paws, is now sluggish and slower, the swell of her belly obviously weighing her down as she attempts to keep up with Squirrelflight.

But her sister's troubles – _all of them_, to be honest – are in the back of her mind at the moment; Yellowfang's face appears in her minds eye, clear as the water of the lake, orange eyes boring into her skull as her mouth moves, silently saying the one message that Squirrelflight never thought she'd hear – that she couldn't have kits.

She's heard of mollies that can't get pregnant; it's a natural thing, happening infrequently throughout every generation.

They're getting closer to ThunderClan camp; she can see Spiderleg and Thornclaw guarding the entrance, the two toms talking quietly with one another. Thornclaw flicks his ear, glancing over at them; he gives them a slight nod, just a jerk of the head, as they pass him.

Squirrelflight doesn't miss the way that Leafpool winces when the gorse barriers drag against her flanks; deep inside, Squirrelflight wants to feel a tremor of pity for her sister, wants to touch her nose to her flank and tell her she's sorry for what's happened, but she...can't.

She hears Yellowfang's words still, like the sounds of the forest life in the midst of a battle, and that numb, ugly feeling is still clenching at Squirrelflight's belly as she thinks of it all.

"_You will see things more clearly when you wake up." _Yellowfang had told her, sympathy and a strange sense of kindness softening the normally snappy medicine cat's broad face. She had lead her to a soft, warm patch of grass, licked her head, and allowed her to be lulled to sleep, with Squirrelflight clutching the promise of clarity as tightly as a bird with prey in it's talons.

But she's awake now, the dawns light warming her whiskers, and...and Squirrelflight still doesn't see things clearly.

Leafpool turns to her, as they emerge in camp. Her sister blinks at her, apologetically so, and opens her mouth to say something – Squirrelflight can't help but think that it'll be a _"please, _please_ do this for me, Squirrelflight, I _need_ your help-"_ – but Squirrelflight just shakes her head, forces a tight smile on her face, and brushes her tail against her sisters flank.

(Squirrelflight tries not to shiver when she feels the swell of it, the growing bulge that she knows will soon be kicking with small lives.)

Her sister tilts her head to the side, as though in consideration. She doesn't understand, she can't, but Squirrelflight just turns, padding away from her twin.

The thing is, Squirrelflight's never been exactly sure if she _wanted_ kits. Sorreltail and Brackenfur's litter were cute, sure, and they were well behaved, but. Kits are a responsibility, they're lives that can be ripped from a cat in the tough times that are the life a Clan cat, and they look up to their parents, look to them for support and love and guidance.

She knows that if she tries, she can be a good mother – she enjoys playing with kits, she doesn't _hate_ them – but...but she's not sure she's _ready_ for it all.

And...and then there's Brambleclaw to account for.

Did he want kits? If Squirrelflight _does_ take Leafpool's litter, would he just accept it, go along with it and treat those kittens like they were his own? Would they be good parents?

Squirrelflight keeps a calm, cool exterior all the way until she gets to the warriors den, peering inside. There's only Rainwhisker, so far, but the dark gray tom is curled into himself, in a deep, calm slumber.

Squirrelflight makes it to her nest, curls up, and...and she _sobs_.

She's never been one to break – not when Feathertail died, not when Shrewpaw died. Not when their home was taken, not when her and Brambleclaw were fighting. But...

But this is _different,_ for some reason.

Squirrelflight's always counted on the fact that she had the option to change her mind if she wanted kits. If she and Brambleclaw decided to, well. It'd be so. They'd have a litter, move on, but only when they were _ready_.

But...but now she's learned that she can't have the option anymore, and the only option is going to happen in a moon or less. She's going to have to make a decision: to help her sister, to betray Brambleclaw and her parents and ThunderClan, or to never have kits, and to allow Leafpool to deal with the consequences of her and Crowfeather's actions.

_Maybe Yellowfang is lying_, she thinks between sobs and heavy breathing, her paws clutching her skull. _Maybe she's just saying that, just so that I'll help Leafpool. How...how can StarClan know if I can have kits or not? They...they didn't create me and check that as an option, did they? They can't-_

"_Are you questioning StarClan?" _Comes the gravel of Yellowfang's voice, the growl that made Squirrelflight begin to believe that, oh, this is _true_.

_I don't want to hurt Brambleclaw_, she thinks, wrapping her tail more tightly over her muzzle. _He just killed Hawkfrost, he's hurting over that betrayal...I...it'd _kill_ him to know that I lied to him, if I go through with it...I...I can't decide this! I'm still a young warrior, I'm not Mom's age and wise like her!_

If only she could tell her beloved mother about this. If only Sandstorm could know...then she'd know what to do.

_I can't even tell Mom or Dad about the fact that I can't have kits. _She realizes with a cold, awful chill, another sob pushing it's way through her throat. _I can't tell Brambleclaw, I can't tell Sorreltail or Whitepaw or Brackenfur or Rainwhisker or any of my friends. I can't...I can't tell anyone._

She wishes she were a kit again, curling into Sandstorm's belly and having her mother lick her ears, telling her that everything would be okay. Just like the pale tabby did on one of the nights of the journey to the lake, when things were complicated.

Squirrelflight curls even tighter into herself. _I just want to be an apprentice again, when my biggest concern was irritating Brambleclaw and being able to go to Mom and tell her about my nightmares about Feathertail dying...when I could play with Sorreltail, before she got a mate and kits...when Leafpool and I were closer, not this uncomfortable awkwardness that it is now. Like I need to protect her from everything._

Squirrelflight blinks, wiping her face with her single white paw. At least she got the worst of her thoughts out; although she's still angry, still hurting, she doesn't feel as though she has bile in her throat.

A familiar, warm scent fills her nostrils; Squirrelflight pricks her ears, and she turns, seeing Brambleclaw pushing his way through the den.

He smiles, although his smile fades when he sees her, curled into a tight ball in their nest, and what she can only guess is her broken facial expression.

"Squirrelflight," he meows, voice trembling as he crosses the space between them in a few wide pawsteps. He lowers himself, sniffing her muzzle and staring at her with worried, guarded golden eyes. "Are you alright?"

She stares at him, lip trembling, and she nods, throwing on another one of her forced smiles.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she tells him, her pride getting the best of her. She couldn't let him think she was in agony; he'd pester her until she would be too irritated to keep it a secret anymore.

He blinks at her, looking as though he wants to protest, but Squirrelflight lays her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and trying to focus on her mate, on his warmth and the fact that he _loved her_. Leafpool told her about the sign in the lake, them walking as one – it was a prophecy, that they'll always be together.

It should help cheer her up, but Squirrelflight still feels just...numb.


End file.
